


"We can't go back to where we were."

by QueenC



Series: Glimpses into the universe of us [5]
Category: 13 Reasons Why (TV)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Canon Compliant, Introspection, M/M, Miscommunication, Self-Esteem Issues, Suicidal Thoughts, Underage Drinking, anxiety crisis, lots of wonderings and insecurities, until the end of ep08, what happened right after ep06
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:09:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25988740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenC/pseuds/QueenC
Summary: Alex and Charlie have very different views about a lot of things. This was never a problem before — until the thing they start to disagree about is themselves.(Or, my take on some scenes we didn't get, starting right after the drill until the end of the riot.)
Relationships: Charlie St. George/Alex Standall
Series: Glimpses into the universe of us [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1786504
Comments: 68
Kudos: 124





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I can't believe I'm finally posting this story. I've been struggling with it for more than a week now, because these boys just have SO MANY FEELINGS and doubts and issues, and what was meant to be a one-shot painfully turned into this little monster. Sorry, not sorry. I can't say this fic was a pleasure to write but I think I tackled all the aspects I wanted to dive into about the period they stayed apart. This fic starts right after their kiss on ep06 and goes all the way to the riot on ep08. I'll add the timeline I used for it so you guys don't lose track of time, because heh. It's 13rw, being confused by the timeline is part of the deal.
> 
> I urge you to mind the tags. Nothing displayed here strays from canon, but Alex's mind can be a really unpleasant place to be if you're going through a tough time in your personal life. I still have some more tags to add as we go, so please keep that in mind.

###  **Thursday, April 4th — Friday, April 5th.**

**(7:26 PM) Charlie St. George:** _so wth do you think of all these recent events_

 **(7:26 PM) Charlie St. George:** _i mean the Clay thing jesus_

 **(7:27 PM) Charlie St. George:** _he was already in bad shape even before that dont you think_

 **(7:32 PM) Alex Standall:** _yeah, totally._

 **(7:34 PM) Alex Standall:** _i feel kinda bad now for yelling at him after the whole crashing zachs car thing but honestly someone had to_

 **(7:34 PM) Alex Standall:** _but maybe his problems were running deeper? idk_

 **(7:35 PM) Charlie St. George:** _yeah i hear you, he totally lost it earlier today_

 **(7:36 PM) Charlie St. George:** _i mean... it was a stressful moment for us all, I get that. But it was even harder for him for some reason_

 **(7:36 PM) Charlie St. George:** _i hate that he was taken into custody like that but then again maybe he could use professional help?_

 **(7:37 PM) Charlie St. George:** _idk_

 **(7:37 PM) Charlie St. George:** _tbh i dont know what to think anymore_

 **(7:38 PM) Alex Standall:** _no, i get you... Clay always had his issues_

 **(7:39 PM) Alex Standall:** _i know hes been on therapy for a couple months now, maybe he just needed a break from everything_

 **(7:39 PM) Alex Standall:** _honestly im more concerned about tyler_

 **(7:40 PM) Alex Standall:** _not that im not worried about clay but I hardly believe they'll press charges against him_

 **(7:40 PM) Alex Standall:** _like, he was literally freaking the hell out lol theres allegations to be made in this case right_

 **(7:41 PM) Alex Standall:** _as for tyler_

 **(7:41 PM) Alex Standall:** _with what tony gave dean foundry... idk I dont think it looks good for him_

 **(7:41 PM) Charlie St. George:** _yeah youre right_

 **(7:42 PM) Charlie St. George:** _and im sorry, I should've stuck to your side on defending him_

 **(7:42 PM) Charlie St. George:** _he's our friend_

 **(7:43 PM) Charlie St. George:** _maybe if i did Tony wouldnt go so far as to show dean Foundry the pics_

 **(7:43 PM) Alex Standall:** _i dont think tony can be stopped once he puts his mind to something_

 **(7:43 PM) Alex Standall:** _hes not best known for being pliable_

 **(7:44 PM) Charlie St. George:** _lol yeah i think youre right_

 **(7:44 PM) Charlie St. George:** _but still_

 **(7:44 PM) Charlie St. George:** _you didnt doubt Tyler for once, thats what true friendship is_

 **(7:45 PM) Charlie St. George:** _hes very lucky to have you as a friend_

 **(7:45 PM) Charlie St. George:** _i wish I could say the same about me, I feel like I let him down_

 **(7:47 PM) Alex Standall:** _dont think like that. It was a very stressful situation, i think he would understand_

 **(7:48 PM) Charlie St. George:** _did you get a hold of him yet?_

 **(7:48 PM) Alex Standall:** _no... texted him earlier but got no replies yet_

 **(7:49 PM) Charlie St. George:** _same thing_

 **(7:57 PM) Charlie St. George:** _so... are we gonna talk about what happened after the drill?_

 **(8:12 PM) Alex Standall:** _what do you mean_

 **(8:15 PM) Charlie St. George:** _well..._

 **(8:17 PM) Charlie St. George:** _i really liked kissing you_

 **(8:17 PM) Charlie St. George:** _was wondering what were your thoughts on the matter_

 **(8:21 PM) Alex Standall:** _hah well yeah_

 **(8:21 PM) Alex Standall:** _i gtg my dad needs my help with smth_

 **(8:22 PM) Charlie St. George:** _oh ok_

 **(8:22 PM) Charlie St. George:** _talk to you later?_

 **(8:28 PM) Charlie St. George:** _text me when you're free_

The last message had been sent about thirty minutes ago, and Alex had yet to reply to it. He had yet to _see_ it, actually. Meanwhile, Charlie stared at his phone resting stubbornly immobile on his bedside table, chewing anxiously at his bottom lip as he waited for a reply he was growing more and more convinced it wasn't coming.

Charlie felt like the little ball of hope that was lodged in his chest ever since his lips had touched Alex's was deflating morosely, all his joy and excitement draining from his body, leaving only disappointment and a heavy emptiness behind.

Alex hadn't pulled away from the kiss. On the opposite, he had reached forward and kissed Charlie again. And up until Tony broke their moment by stepping into the room — Charlie was still mildly intent on having a few words with him about this — up to that moment, Charlie was having the best ten seconds of his life. He felt overwhelmed by his happiness and his feelings for Alex, and the general thrill of _fucking finally_ a little voice insisted on chanting at the back of his head.

He probably would still be attached to Alex's lips if it wasn't for Tony breaking them apart. Charlie surely wouldn't be the one to step away, and Alex hadn't seemed too eager to do so either. Just remembering the soft press of Alex's lips on his, how he had been the one initiating their second kiss, the way he seemed so into it until the moment they were interrupted — _damn it, Tony_ —, it was enough to make Charlie's heart melt in both adoration and longing. He wanted Alex so much. He had wanted him for a while now, but having today as an inkling that maybe what he felt wasn't entirely one-sided just added to his already too-deep feelings for Alex.

But now, after giving Charlie a taste of what he had wanted the most for the last couple of months — after fully kissing him back, goddammit —, now Alex seemed not interested all of a sudden. If he ever had been, that is. Charlie had only about one minute to base his assumptions here — one glorious, hopeful minute where he believed maybe Alex liked him back. If not as much as Charlie did him, then at least one tiny bit that didn't translate into purely friendly affection? You don't go around kissing your friends like that, do you? Charlie certainly didn't. The mere thought of smooching Luke or Beecher was enough to give him the shivers. 

Which only made it all so weird, the way he saw it. Honestly, it wasn't the first time he entertained the idea of Alex seeing him as more than a friend. He had counted some signs over the last weeks that pointed to the older boy having some feelings for him — except for his last messages. Charlie wasn't naive. He could tell when he was being avoided. Alex had just done so the very moment he brought up their kiss. In a very obvious manner, Charlie would add. With a lame excuse of helping his dad, like seriously, come on. Charlie could understand being nervous about the situation, God knows he was too. But it escaped his understanding how pretending the kiss hadn't happened would be of any help in this scenario. 

Sighing heavily, Charlie pulled his covers to his chest, head going through how he would deal with it the next day. He was taking as a given that Alex would still not have answered his texts by then. Maybe Charlie could take a page from his book and pretend it never happened, as much as he hated the idea. Maybe he could act like Alex never ignored his messages, and treat the whole thing as naturally as possible, as smoothly as he would if this was about anyone else but Alex. 

(It was a hard prospect to think about, though. Because this _was_ Alex, not just anyone else. This was Alex, and all Charlie wanted to do was to talk things through so he could be sure that they were both on the same page, so he could be sure that he wasn't tramping into Alex's space. But as that old saying wisely stated, it takes two to tango. This wasn't only up to Charlie. Alex had to show some interest in it too. 

And Charlie was scared that he wouldn't because this would be worse than having him as only a friend. It would be so much worse not to have him at all.)

* * *

Alex laid very quietly on his bed, eyes glued to the ceiling in the half-light coming from the outside. Darkness had slowly crept into his bedroom, and he couldn't be bothered to get up to turn on the lights, or even reach out to his bedside lamp. He felt like all the weight of the world was currently placed on top of him, restraining his moves, preventing him from bouncing up from the bed into the nervous pacing around he was so used to getting to whenever he felt anxious about a situation. But not this time. 

No, this time his anxiety had decided to make an appearance in the form of paralyzing fear. On the inside, he was extremely agitated but he didn't think he could move a muscle even if he wanted to. And to be honest, he didn't. All he wanted was for his mattress to swallow him whole and only spit him back once all this — Clay, Tyler, _Charlie_ — was settled and properly dealt with. He didn't want to have to do any of the dealing on his own. 

Especially regarding Charlie — and Alex could see the irony, because of all the recent events, Charlie was in theory the easier one to handle. All he needed to do was pick up his phone and text him back. All he needed to do was tell him that yes, he had liked kissing him too. Quite a lot. And he wanted to do it again, a lot of times yet, preferably. But he couldn't convince his body to obey his heart, and his mind had been quick to provide a feeble excuse to bolt the minute Charlie had mentioned the kiss. 

It had been on pure reflex, and that's what annoyed Alex the most. He shouldn't feel the need to avoid Charlie. If anything, the younger boy was the most reliable, most solid presence he currently had in his life. He was always there, a warm presence, a soothing comfort. Alex had no reason to leave him hanging — and yet he couldn't convince himself to do otherwise.

To be fully honest, this didn't come as a surprise. He had told Charlie that it did but that wasn't entirely true. The kiss had surprised him because he didn't expect Charlie to go for it so openly — and yet so caring, so respectful of his space, giving him time to pull away from it if he wanted to. Well, Alex was most definitely not pulling away. If he were to be sincere with himself, he had been wanting that kiss for a while now. Maybe not fully consciously — never before had he sat and thought about how would it be like to have Charlie's lips on his — but the underlying longing was there. In the way he felt safe around Charlie. The way he liked whenever Charlie held him on the premise of lending him some comfort.

Lately, Alex had begrudgingly accepted that he liked Charlie's closeness a lot more than just-friends. Ever since the weekend they spent together after Zach's accident, he had to come to terms with this, while deftly avoiding looking closely on what this could mean. Because doing so would entail facing he was growing feelings for his friend — and even though in more than one occasion he had wondered about the less-than-friendly vibes he felt coming from Charlie, now was so not the time to be dwelling on things as teenage crushes and unrequited feelings. 

Winston and Diego were breathing down their necks with the whole Monty thing — Jess had said she had it all figured out but Alex wasn't fully convinced she was an impartial enough of a judge to assess the situation. Zach was drinking his way through his guilt, and Alex had no idea how to help; Clay was spiraling worse than ever before; Tyler was probably going through some shit of his own that Alex had entirely missed if today was any indication to go by. It all seemed prone to fall apart at the slightest push, and Alex didn't feel it was right of him, with all of this going on, to sit about and think of his crush. Especially if said crush was Charlie fucking St. George.

It didn't take a genius to notice Alex didn't deserve Charlie. Honestly, even before the kiss, even when he wasn't considering things between them as an actual possibility — even before that, he had known he could never be a match for the jock. Alex always felt somewhat indebted to him. On more than one occasion, he knew he had used Charlie to ease his harried mind, to soothe his anxiety. Fuck, earlier today had started exactly like this, hadn't it? Charlie had seen him lose it so bad to the point of hallucinating his father, and yet the younger boy had made his best to support him. Alex didn't feel it was right. He was sure Charlie was having his own fears at that moment but still, he swallowed it all just to be a steady presence for Alex. The way he saw it, he was always taking while Charlie was always giving, and whatever happened between them was already unbalanced from the start. 

And he couldn't say he hadn't seen the signs. Charlie wore his emotions on his sleeve in that confident, unapologetic way of his. Alex had caught him staring in more than one occasion, and the smile he always sported whenever his eyes laid on Alex was enough to speak at least a little of his feelings. Alex had already noticed that. Except he hadn't dared to believe it, at least not until Charlie had pushed through that last barrier and kissed him. Before that moment, Alex had chalked it all up to wishful thinking of his part, his heart longing, wishing, hoping Charlie's lingering glances could mean more. Before that moment, he wouldn't have believed Charlie really had feelings for him. 

He kind of still didn't. In his heart, he knew that the kiss had happened, he knew the moment they shared was real — but in his mind, there was a litany of reasonable motives as to how it was all absurd and ill-timed, and what could Charlie have possibly seen in him, for fuck's sake. Nothing of it made sense if he gave it enough thought. Granted, it had been one hell of a stressful day. It was not farfetched to believe Charlie was led by the emotional rollercoaster they had just gone through. Especially considering he had been the one doomed with handling Alex's meltdown. Alex could still feel his cheeks burning every time he thought about it. He knew it wasn't flashing news to Charlie that he was a mess but never before had the younger boy experienced the entirety of his weirdness like that. He was equal parts glad Charlie was around to help grounding him, while also so fucking embarrassed he had witnessed him completely losing it.

(On that note, Charlie had googled his TBI. _He had googled his TBI._ Alex didn't know what to do with this information. He figured a lot of caring went into this action. He didn't want to think about it.) 

Morning came after a restless night where the few moments he managed to get some sleep were interrupted by gunshot sounds and the faint memory of hearing his dad calling for him amidst his panic. To make matters worse, the first thing he learned as soon as he got downstairs for breakfast, was that Sheriff Diaz was intent on reopening Bryce's case. He saw him asking his dad for more clarifications, and whatever faint intentions he had on having breakfast suddenly disappeared the moment his stomach started churning at the news. Like, seriously. What fucked up timing was this. Alex was barely keeping his head afloat with everything else going on, and now this. It made the prospect of his upcoming college interview seem so silly, so meaningless. Who the fuck has time to stress about college when you can go down for murder at any minute?

This sudden news swept everything else from Alex's thoughts — that is, until Tony urgently caught up to him in the hallways, hissing “Tyler's at school”, “like nothing happened”, “I'll handle it, don't worry” in quick succession before rushing to his class, heavy steps leaving a perplexed Alex behind. He couldn't even muster the energy to worry about this. There was so much going on at the same time that Alex felt like he was watching his life playing out in front of his eyes, just a bystander, a spectator of his own reality. He wasn't able to catch up to everything, and he just wanted it all to stop for a minute, just one goddamn minute, so he could take a breath before pushing through again. 

But he knew for a fact at this point in his life that the world doesn't just stop so you can get your shit together. If anything, it tends to spin faster and faster during these hectic moments, making you dizzy and nauseated every time a new blow is thrown your way. This was how he was feeling — physically feeling — when Charlie caught up to him at the library that day. 

If Alex was completely honest, the last turn of events had wiped Charlie's text — to which he hadn't replied yet — from his mind. It was too much already to stress about Sheriff Diaz and Tyler. The problem was that having Charlie right in front of him — and hugging him in front of everyone, and _what the hell_ — immediately brought back his agonizing inner struggle from last night, trying to make sense of Charlie's feelings, of his own feelings, and failing spectacularly. It only added to the churning on his stomach, and Alex had never been one to thrive under pressure. 

He admitted he could have handled it all better. As he heard the words coming out of his mouth, Alex was already regretting them. He could have asked for his space without being such an asshole. Or he could have just been honest and told Charlie he was fucking terrified — of going to jail, of facing his feelings. There were so many different ways he could have gone about Charlie approaching him, and now that the moment had passed, now that he had the time to analyze his choices, it only served to make him feel worse to consider all the ways he could have not fucked it up. Alex half wished he could go back in time. His other half believed he would have fucked it up just as badly if he had another chance.

Because in the end, above any excuses he tried to make, above any other problems he could use as a smokescreen to try and deviate his attention from Charlie — deep down, it all circled back to this. He was a fuckup. He messed up everything he touched. It was where all his insecurities laid. Having Bryce's case coming back to bite him only made Alex more aware of how much of a sorry failure he was. 

He was too damaged to deserve someone like Charlie. This wasn't even the first time this thought struck him. It had been lurking at the back of his mind ever since the winter break, ever since Charlie had made a conscious choice of getting closer to him and Tyler. Alex remembered being wary as to why the hell the Tigers' fucking quarterback would willingly choose to spend time with them. His distrustfulness had wanned as time showed him Charlie had no ulterior motives but he could see now as clear as ever before that his bewilderment had never fully gone away. With all the people in the world, all the people at school — why would Charlie ever choose him?

So as much as it hurt to admit he probably could have chosen a better way to let Charlie down, Alex didn't believe the final outcome could be different. He would still push Charlie away, even if he had the opportunity to think his decision through. He only wished he could have done it less harshly. He didn't want to hurt Charlie — he just wanted him to understand that his 'I thought we would be a thing now' was so absurd Alex couldn't even wrap his head around it. How could Charlie just have assumed this that easily. It made no sense at all that he could ever expect them to be together. This idea belonged in an ideal world, one where Alex wasn't so screwed up, one where he could allow himself to entertain the thought of having something with Charlie. He didn't dare that much as it was.

The way things truly were, giving it a shot was the perfect recipe for disaster. Charlie seemed to see him through some twisted kind of redeeming lenses, all his positive attitude drawing a good side from Alex that only existed in his head. It was all Alex could do not to scream at how unfair it was. He could never live up to that. And he didn't even know what had he done to fool Charlie into thinking there was anything in him worth salvaging. Because honestly, if Charlie could truly see him — if Charlie saw him the way he saw himself — he would run for his life, never to look back again.

How the fuck could Charlie look at him and not see him for the broken mess that he truly was?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I looked at this for so long that not one line makes sense to my brain anymore, so please tell me if left any glaring mistakes going unnoticed. All your thoughts are very much appreciated! <3


	2. Chapter 2

###  **Saturday, April 6th — Monday, April 8th.**

When Charlie figured Alex was deliberately avoiding answering his texts, he chalked it up to nerves. Which was okay. It had taken himself a good amount of boldness to bring up the conversation as well. He wouldn't hold that against Alex, despite his overbearing apprehension after the older boy stopped replying. 

What he didn't expect was for Alex to blow him off entirely. He had mentioned Tyler — and while this was also a concern of Charlie's because he hadn't managed to have a word with Tyler since before the drill, Tony had said he would have it handled. And Tony wasn't one to fool around on getting things done, so it was safe to say they would all come out of this unscathed, right? Right? 

Honestly, Charlie didn't know anymore. It felt like a lot of his certainties were gone since yesterday. He was sure he was fully supportive of his friends, yet he had failed to stand up for Tyler. He was sure he had Alex's friendship first and foremost, now it felt like a whole trench line separated them. Charlie usually wasn't one to dwell with uncertainties, but everything was looking a bit wonky now, and he wasn't sure how to start putting things back into place. 

Alex's rejection had hurt more than him ignoring his texts, because try as he might to come up with an excuse, Charlie couldn't chalk that one up to nerves. If anything, Alex looked pissed — and while Charlie would not jump to conclusions that he was pissed _at him_ , he surely had taken the brunt of it. He wrecked his brain in search of an explanation as to why Alex would be so harsh to him like he never had before, even in his most wary days, back at winter break when they first started hanging out together. Alex had always been caustic, sneering and borderline aggressive on a lot of occasions — but cold and distant was a new look on him Charlie wasn't entirely sure how to begin making sense of.

He could admit, now that he went through their conversation with a clear mind and what he hoped was an impartial approach, that he had done a lot of assuming on his own. It was on him to think that he and Alex would be a thing after one kiss. It was on him to expect Alex to be comfortable with showing affection in front of everyone without asking him first about it. It was on him and his wishful hope, him and his stupid feelings, to think they would jump into a relationship without even having a proper conversation about it. Charlie could see now he had been too eager — but damn it, he had been dancing around his feelings for so long, waiting for a chance to lay his cards on the table, hoping fate would throw him a bone so he could take matters into his hands and make his own luck. And when it did happen, he had royally screwed up. Jesus. He should have known better. He knew Alex more than this — and he supposed he could have handled it all properly, was his judgment not clouded by his own feelings and expectations. 

The kiss in itself had been ill-timed. They both had just gone through a lot of emotions and having it all so recent was still making them winded. Charlie would admit to his poor timing too, but on top of his overflowing feelings, at that moment, the need of reassuring Alex, of having him understand that Charlie did not see him as a freak, and neither should himself — the moment that self-conscious 'I'm a freak' had left Alex's lips, Charlie knew he had to do something to show him otherwise. Whether goddamn kissing him had been the best course of action was open to debate — and while Charlie could see now he could have handled it all differently, he wasn't sorry at all. He was almost 100% sure that if he had gone for words, Alex would have just dismissed him entirely. Or dodged the subject, his usual reactions whenever someone said something nice about him. Alex wouldn't have listened. 

So instead, Charlie tried to convey all of his caring, all of his fondness for that precious boy who just would not take a compliment into that kiss. Into that brief, chaste press of lips, Charlie had poured all his growing feelings, all his hopes, all his adoration and longing, all his admiration and respect. He wanted Alex _to know_ , wanted to imprint this knowledge on him somehow — that he was worth it, he was deserving, he was important; that he was actually amazing in Charlie's eyes. 

It seemed like it was working for a while there because when Charlie pulled away, mindful of not overstepping Alex's boundaries even if the boy hadn't shown to be opposed to his proximity — when Charlie pulled away, Alex's lips had followed his. And the way Alex had kissed him back had a lot more intent than the hopeful, reassuring peck Charlie had gone for. When Alex kissed him back, Charlie felt like his body was fluttering two inches above the floor, while simultaneously it seemed that all that tethered him to the ground was the press of Alex's lips on his. When Alex had kissed him back, Charlie felt like he had a chance. Maybe he wasn't so deep in the friendzone as he believed.

But now it just felt like a lot of projecting and wishful thinking of his part. Charlie had to wonder — had he imagined Alex's eagerness when kissing him back? Was it possible it was all because of his haywire emotions after the drill? And once he was already over-analyzing everything anyway — was Alex embarrassed when Tony ran into them kissing? If so, was it because they were caught mid-act, or because Charlie was a boy? And if it was the latter — _god, if so,_ had Charlie made it worse earlier today while trying to kiss him at the library? Was that why Alex had pushed him away? 

Charlie racked his brain — he was sure Alex hadn't made any big coming out gestures after Winston. As far as he could tell, only Alex's closest friends knew he wasn't straight. Jesus, was that what this was about? Was Alex insecure about having people knowing he was-- what exactly? They had never talked about that, except for that brief conversation regarding Winston a while back. He didn't even know how Alex identified himself. Did Alex know how he identified himself? Charlie was hating the turns his mind was taking. Mostly because it kept circling back to a lot of questions he had no answers for, but also because it served to show him that despite his careful observation and his undivided attention, there was still a lot about Alex that he didn't know, didn't understand. This conclusion made his skin prick. It was inevitable to wonder if things would have gone differently if he had a better grasp of where Alex stood on all this. 

What he wanted the most was to reach out, to talk to Alex so they could clear the air between them. Once his intentions were already out, the best Charlie could do was to try and have Alex to listen to him. But the older boy had completely shut him down earlier today and was gone when Charlie looked for him after classes had ended. The unspoken message was very clear. He didn't want to talk to Charlie. And fine, Charlie was totally one to respect people's spaces — but didn't he deserve at least the same treatment as before all of this happened? Alex was blowing him off like a friend too, on top of everything. 

Over the last few weeks, they had fallen into a habit of texting a lot after school, going through the evening to their bedtimes. Today Charlie's phone remained stubbornly silent. And he didn't know what the best course of action was — if he reached out, maybe Alex would think him pushy, and if he didn't, it would seem like he didn't care.

His head was about to explode, too many thoughts spiraling on it at the same time, in a constant, helpless war to prove their worth. But they all seem too stupid and too valid at the same time. He briefly wondered if that was how Alex felt all the time, the weight of his thoughts forever crunching him to the ground. Charlie felt like he was running in circles, his pace speeding whenever he thought he was coming closer to an answer but when he stretched his hand out to grab it, it just evaded his grasp entirely. 

His mind was still whirling when he heard his phone buzzing next to him on the mattress, and it took him a moment to place the sound. Charlie opened his eyes and looked blearily at the screen. Then he suddenly was fully awake and focused, heart beating strongly on his throat when he saw Alex's name looking back at him from the screen. 

He sat upright in a flash, hand clasping his phone with probably more strength than necessary. “Hey,” he answered the call, sure that his voice was vibrating with undisguised excitement. 

“Hey,” said Alex back flatly, and just that, just the fact that there weren't any witty replies or mocking comebacks was enough for Charlie to physically feel the distance that was placed between them. “Did you talk to Tyler?”

So that was what this was about, thought Charlie, feeling his small bubble of hope popping into thin air as soon as Alex's words registered. 

“No, I did not. When I left school, he was already gone,” _same as you_ went unsaid as Charlie bit his inner cheek to prevent himself from uttering the words. He wasn't sure if being confrontational now was the best move. 

He wasn't sure of anything really, and it made him so scared. 

“I caught up to him earlier. He said he was fine, the cops aren't calling him to the station or anything,” informed Alex in the same monotone. “I just thought you'd like to know.”

“Yeah, sure,” mumbled Charlie at a loss. “Thanks.” 

The silence stretched between them, and it was nothing like the comfortable, companionable ones they used to share just two days ago. It was so ridiculous, honestly. When Charlie thought he had already talked Alex to his sleep — and admittedly listened to his calm, steady breaths for a while before hanging up, taking pride in the fact that he was the one responsible to help this boy out of his anxiety peaks. How was it that now it all sounded so stilted? How did it all fall apart so quickly — how the hell had their friendship turned into this? 

He blamed his bad timing for the umpteenth time since yesterday. He had held back so much, and still he got this. Of course, consciously Charlie knew there was no way to know for sure if any other well-thought attempt at telling Alex his feelings would have gone better. But it was hard not to wonder when he had carefully restrained himself so much not to blurt out how he really felt. It was hard not to wonder if things could have gone differently. 

“Have you heard anything about Clay?” Charlie asked, trying to keep his voice steady — trying to keep himself from asking the questions he really wanted to ask. 

“He's under observation until they decide whether or not to commit him to a mental hospital. I heard it this morning,” offered Alex cryptically. His tone implied that there was more that he wanted to say. Charlie didn't dare to ask. 

“Jesus,” he sighed, the impact of the news washing over him. “That's so messed up.”

“Yeah,” agreed Alex. “It really is.”

Silence again. Charlie never thought he would live to be irked by a situation so much. He wasn't one to indulge in bad feelings but he was hating this sudden distance with a passion. 

“Alex, listen,” he started, and if he was fully honest, he had no plans, no idea of what was going to come out of his mouth next. He was just going for it head-first — heart-first —, taking advantage of his boldness instead of his wits. 

But he didn't have to worry, for he didn't have the chance to get past that. 

“I gotta go,” Alex cut him off. “I just-- I thought you might want to hear about Tyler. He's your friend too.”

“You could have just texted,” pointed out Charlie. 

“Yeah,” agreed Alex with a sigh. “Yeah, I could've.”

Charlie was about to lose his mind with all those unspoken words and heavy silences. 

“Can we do something this weekend?” He soldiered on. “There's a lot going on right now. I think we could use some talk.”

He was reaching, trying to be as subtle as possible — because he was slowly coming to realize his bluntness did more harm than good. But Alex wasn't oblivious. He knew what Charlie meant. He knew what it was that he wanted to talk about. 

Alex sighed heavily, and Charlie could almost make out his gloomy expression on the other side of the line, lips downturned as they formed around the words. “I got my college interview this Monday. I'm gonna be busy this weekend prepping and going over stupid tips with Jess.”

“Oh,” said Charlie, heart dropping to his feet while he tried to maintain his composure. “Yeah, of course, I totally get it.”

“I should go, actually. Jess is getting here any minute now, so,” said Alex vaguely, and what Charlie wouldn't give to see his face right now.

“Okay. Yeah, okay,” he agreed begrudgingly. “It was nice talking to you,” Charlie added before he lost the courage, before he missed the moment, before Alex could stop him. 

It took Alex a moment to answer — a long, agonizing moment during which Charlie thought he had lost connection. But when he finally did, his voice was soft, softer than Charlie had the pleasure of hearing these last couple of days, softer as he last heard soon after their lips touched for the first time. 

“Yeah, you too. I missed you.”

And then he was off, and Charlie was left with nothing but a silent line and the thumping of his heart going wild in his chest.

* * *

Alex could feel the slight tremor in his hands as he put his phone down. He stared blankly at it, Charlie's contact info and his stupidly charming smiling face staring back at him from the screen. It had been a dumb idea to call. It remained true that he missed him. 

Updating Charlie about Tyler had been the easiest, lamest excuse Alex had managed to think of for calling him. And this thought nagged at him more than he cared to admit. He shouldn't need an excuse to talk to Charlie. He didn't use to need one, up until yesterday. And now everything felt out of place, everything felt fucking wrong — and while Alex was aware that a good deal of it was his fault, he also didn't know how to fix it. He didn't know how to make it right, didn't know how to switch back to how things were before. Before, everything was easier. Before, there wasn't a kiss and a huge load of feelings carving an abyss between them. 

(That was not entirely true, of course. The feelings had been there. But before, Alex could just pretend that they weren't and avoid acknowledging them. It had worked for the last week or so, and he had been intent on keeping it that way for as long as he could. 

But then that kiss happened, and now he was being forced to confront his feelings, to look them in the eye and admit their existence. And it was fucking awful.) 

Alex just wished they could go back and never have that kiss happening. He wished they could go back to just being friends. Not because it was easy — over the entire last week, his head had been stuck on his overall feelings of safety and comfort when around Charlie, playing in a loop how it had felt warm and cozy and _right_ to sleep in his embrace, and try as he might, Alex knew he couldn't just shrug it off as a physical comfort for his anxiety thing. He doubted Charlie believed this shit either. No, being just-friends with Charlie hadn't been simple for a while now but it was the safe bet. It was what he could settle for, what he could allow himself to have. Alex couldn't help but feel it wasn't fair of him to even entertain the idea of having anything more with Charlie. It had crossed his mind here and there — unrequited, intrusive, thrilling thoughts he made his best to shut off whenever he realized he was having them. He could never allow himself to be with someone like Charlie. He didn't deserve such a good thing.

And still, Alex missed him. Missed his voice, his goofy smile, his comforting hand around his. His bad jokes and his messing up his words. It was barely one day of them apart, and Alex already missed his presence so much to the point of giving in and calling him. To the point of digging up an excuse to do so. 

And Charlie was so goddamn easy to talk to — or Alex was just so used to trust him now he almost blabbed about Sheriff Diaz and Bryce's case. Almost told him he was so fucking scared what they could find if they really decided to look. Almost confessed he'd rather call than text because the latter didn't allow him to hear Charlie's soothing, warm tone.

He almost told him he was sorry for how he handled things at the library. Almost said yes when Charlie asked to meet over the weekend. Almost broke down and admitted that he sucked at feelings, and every word he said as an attempt to push Charlie away should be read as a plea for him to stay. 

And then, obviously, what he had actually done was shut him off at the very moment he felt like Charlie was going to steer the conversation to them. He didn't feel like he could have this talk, so he had cut him off and bolted. 

Having Jessica over was just one more excuse Alex had made up at the top of his head — though in his defense, this one was more solid, had a deeper layer of truth to stick to. He did have a college interview to prep for. It was not at the forefront of his mind right now, especially with everything about the case having a chance to come to life and snatch his chance of going to college — snatch his chance of having a life, that is — but it was a thing, a future appointment in his horizon, and he was not above using that to avoid deeper conversations or setting up encounters.

He did want to talk to Charlie, to go over why they should not veer towards a relationship in a calm, well-thought manner. But with his head spinning the way it was now, it was only likely that he would put his foot in his mouth again and make everything worse. He needed a fucking break. To think of everything, to think of nothing, to figure himself out, and all he was, and where he stood in the middle of this hurricane of events. 

Sunday came and went, and despite the fact that no interview prep was done whatsoever, Alex did manage to stop spiraling enough to place his feet back on the ground. To say he wasn't scared about the next day was a blatant lie — there was his interview, and Bryce's case on hold, and facing Charlie — but he had managed to grab back some amount of clarity, and the sane part of his brain was convinced that the younger boy deserved better than to be shut off and ignored. He had never done anything but show Alex his caring and affection.

Alex would dare say that Charlie's only bump in the road had been jumping ahead and assuming a lot on his own by thinking they would be a thing without ever consulting Alex first. If he knew Charlie, and Alex thought he knew him quite well, the younger boy was probably stuck on this detail, worrying if he had trampled upon Alex's boundaries. Which he kind of had, but Alex's worries and reservations ran way deeper than that. And they were mostly focused on his own shortcomings rather than on Charlie's mishaps. 

So as he made his way to Liberty High on Monday morning, Alex had two aims in his mind: 1) keep his shit together until and through his interview, so he could 2) reach out to Charlie and talk things through. It was a very hopeful mindset, very success-focused and goal-oriented, and maybe just from that Alex should have known things would go sour at some point. He was not one to be hopeful or positive. He should have set his mind to failure because this way he would not be disappointed. 

For the moment he stepped into the school, he could see his plans were doomed to go wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should have named this fic 'Rollercoaster'. It's pretty much what it is, having these boys going through all these feelings in such a short time.
> 
> As always, thank you all for reading, and lemme know your thoughts on this chapter <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ladies and gentlemen, make way for Misters Tony Padilla and Justin Foley.
> 
> Hope you guys like this chapter!

###  **Monday, April 8th — Friday, April 12th.**

Alex was no stranger to open stares or sideway looks. Liberty High's student body wasn't known to be discreet or mindful about making anyone self-conscious. But the thing is, usually he knew the reason behind all the staring. Usually, he was able to anticipate when he would be welcomed by pointed glares the minute he stepped into the school. And this time, he was clueless. He had been nervous, yes — but that had to do mostly with his interview and with talking to Charlie. He had no idea what the fuck had he forgotten to take into account that could have turned him into the center of attention over the weekend. 

He felt a shiver running down his spine when he thought it might have anything to do with the case reopening. Fuck, had he missed any details? His dad would've told him if anything was going bad for them, wouldn't he? Had he refrained from telling him not to interfere with his interview performance? Was it a possibility? 

His palms were clammy with cold sweat by the time he reached his classroom. Guilt would do that to you, Alex thought gloomily, stomach into knots without even knowing why he was being treated to such unrequited attention. It was with a rush of relief that his eyes focused on a friendly face, and he made his way to sit behind Tony at the back of the classroom.

“Hey, man,” Tony greeted him, turning around in his seat to fix Alex with a penetrant gaze while their teacher wasn't in class. “All good?”

“Yeah,” shrugged Alex, the back of his mind screaming a fierce _hell no_ that he fought to keep in. “Kinda nervous, though. Got my college interview in a couple of hours.”

“Oh, I see,” Tony's expression lightened. He threw a quick but enough threatening glance to the side, where a couple of their classmates had been engrossed in some enthusiastic whispering ever since Alex had entered the room. The pair jolted, startled by Tony's admonishing look, and turned away from them with muffled giggles and some more annoying whispering. 

“What,” asked Alex, equal parts exasperated and tired. “What now? What the fuck is going on?”

Tony didn't answer immediately. He assessed Alex's general mood for a couple of seconds before sighing, shoulders sagging. “What the hell. You're going to hear about it anyway, so it's probably best if it's from me.” He paused, looking for the better way to phrase it — and apparently finding no way to be subtle, he blurted, very bluntly and Tony-like, “People saw you and Charlie last week, and now they're talking.”

Alex froze for a minute, caught off guard by this news. He stared back at Tony, a slight crease between his eyebrows. “The fuck are you saying. Talking about what?”

Objectively, Alex knew. Or at least he could pitch in an educated guess. But he was finding it hard to believe that after everything, all the bad and questionable things he had done, the reason people would be back to gossiping about him was that he had fucking _kissed a boy_.

But judging from Tony's begrudging expression, that was about it alright. 

“It wasn't so much about you guys kissing,” said Tony, lowering his voice. Alex leaned a bit closer, more curious than he would like to admit. “A few people saw that too, but word didn't start to spread until you pushed Charlie away on the library on Friday. That got everyone's attention a little more.”

“What are they saying?” Asked Alex reluctantly. 

“Some girls are quite pissed with you pushing their dream boy quarterback away,” informed Tony, looking amused. “They're mostly just curious, I guess. Charlie was out for a while now but you kind of took some people by surprise.”

“How is that true, exactly,” Alex rolled his eyes. “I've been getting jokes about being gay even before I myself knew I was into boys.”

“People are idiots, you know that. Don't mind anything they say, it'll wear off eventually,” advised Tony. When Alex didn't answer, he added, “I think it has more to do with Charlie being on the team than anything else. You know everyone loves an excuse to talk about the jocks, for better or worse.”

“Yeah, I hear you,” mumbled Alex, lost in his thoughts. Tony frowned, seemingly not reading his mood very well. But any questions he might have thought of posing were delayed by their teacher's entrance, for which Alex was thankful. He so didn't want to have a heart-to-heart about how he felt right now. Especially because he was finding it hard to understand how exactly this piece of news made him feel, on top of the shitpile he already had to deal with.

At the top of his mind, Alex could say for sure that he was pissed. Why the fuck people thought they had any say on whether he kissed boys or girls? If anything, realizing he wasn't straight had taken him by surprise more than anyone else, if the stupid homophobic jokes he heard ever since his junior year were anything to go by. How was it still interesting for anyone at this point? 

He had to agree with Tony's take on this — it had to be more about Charlie than it was about him. This was ironic because it was not exactly news that Charlie wasn't straight either. Alex himself had heard the rumors and wondered about the veracity of them on more than one occasion, way before they ever kissed, way before hearing straight from Charlie's lips he had never kissed another boy before. But rumors aside, Charlie had never hooked up publicly with another boy — otherwise, everyone would know about it already. Maybe that's what all the fuss was about.

And the first boy he's seen getting close to not only pushes him away but it's also that weird, sad kid who shot himself in the head and missed. Yeah, Alex could understand why some girls were raging. He would be too, if someone he was interested in was losing their time with a basket case.

He almost laughed as he realized that this was already happening, and the basket case was himself. 

And then, all of a sudden, the avalanche of thoughts he had been carefully trying to push away from his mind came crashing on top of him. People were not wrong. They had all the right to be shocked. Because it honestly didn't make any sense — it didn't make any sense for someone like Charlie to be interested in him. What could he possibly offer to Charlie that the quarterback couldn't find in better shape in literally anyone else at this school? What could he possibly offer to Charlie that wasn't broken and flawed and tainted? 

Because he, Alex, felt like that — broken, flawed, tainted — on a daily basis, and having someone so lighthearted, so positive and kind, so fucking wholesome like Charlie having feelings for him was like an inversion of the natural order of things. It didn't feel right. Alex felt like he was being gifted something very precious he had done nothing to be deserving of. He didn't deserve Charlie. And deep down he knew it all along but it was easier to dance around this fact when friendship was all that existed between them.

Now Charlie wanted to throw more feelings in the mix — and up until this morning, Alex had been intent on sitting and talking things through, on clearing the air between them enough so they could go back to where they were before (and truly, _honestly,_ he had to admit that there was a very small part of him interested in seeing if they could give themselves a chance too), but reality had been quick to settle in this time. What the fuck had he been thinking. There was no coming back from this, all the feelings were already out. And it took only one good look at both him and Charlie for the full list of incompatibilities to start counting.

He dodged Tony's questions at the end of the class and mostly ran on auto-mode through his next two periods, the same vile, foul thoughts rolling around in his head. Once he started spiraling, it was hard to pull himself out of it. And this time was especially hard because it felt like all the bad thoughts Alex had repressed during the time he had been lucky enough to have Charlie by his side — all those thoughts that the quarterback's presence prevented from settling into his brain were coming with full force now. Fuck, he should have let Charlie down a long time ago. From the moment he felt their connection starting to strengthen, Alex should have pulled away. It would have been the best for the both of them. He had been weak in allowing himself to be entrapped by Charlie's fond smile, his forever-kind words — he had let Charlie's hopeful eye for the future get the best of him.

Only Alex didn't have much of a future. He didn't dare to hope for one when all his life could fall apart at any moment if the cops were intent on digging into Ani's statement. Alex had killed someone, and he was never held accountable for it. He never got the chance to decide what to do about it either, and he never would now because doing so at this point would implicate his friends, his father, _Charlie._ He couldn't say anything, couldn't confess to anything even if he were to be caught. This guilt was a weight he would carry alone, without ever having made the choice to do so. He would carry it alone whether it was to prison or to a miserable life where he'd be constantly looking over his shoulder, worried if this was the day the truth would finally come out.

But if he could make a choice now, it would be to leave Charlie out of his mess. As much as he could. At whatever costs necessary. 

All things considered, his head was already a jumbled mess when he entered the room for his college interview. Everything he had tried so hard to keep out of his mind was in sharp focus at the forefront of his brain as he sat down at the uncomfortable chair opposite his interviewer. He has a kind look on his face, and Alex — Alex couldn't do it. He didn't deserve to go to college because he didn't deserve a second chance.

The words had escaped his mouth without Alex even realizing it consciously. He only saw he had said them out loud when the interviewer, with a warm, condescending smile, offered him a piece of advice that Alex was sure was meant to be reassuring but went so over his head he lost track of whatever happened over the following minutes that the interview took.

This man thought Alex was worried about his disability. His fucking TBI. Not that it had ever stopped bothering him but it was so not the main reason why he wasn't deserving of the good things coming his way. Fuck, it wasn't even a reason at all. If anything, it was a small price he had to pay for overstaying his welcome in this world.

Alex figured it went all downhill from there but he couldn't remember in detail what happened. Fragments of conversations, flashes of images, and it was all Alex needed to know he had screwed up his interview as he did pretty much everything else. He was relieved when he could finally stand up and leave.

That was until he saw Charlie waiting for him in the hallway, just outside of his interview room, and all of a sudden he was buried in his anxious thoughts again.

He remembered his exchange with Charlie the same way he remembered his interview. Stilted, off-putting fragments of images, and his mouth working of its own accord, that lingering feeling of ruining everything lurking in the back of his mind. He didn't know exactly what words he had used, but he knew he had meant them as weapons, intent on causing harm enough to let him escape and run away — because Charlie showing he cared like this, his attention, his positivity, the fucking affectionate look in his eyes, it was all too much for Alex to deal with. It was a glaring reminder of everything he didn't deserve. So he aimed for hurting — he aimed for the easiest escape he could have in that situation, and he was sorely glad when he walked down the hallway and Charlie didn't follow him.

He was also hurt and a little let down. Try as he might pushing these thoughts away, Alex low-key hoped that Charlie would insist on him a little bit more.

* * *

Charlie had waited for Alex in the hallway with the sole purpose of knowing about the older boy's interview. He still counted them as friends, and he took an interest in Alex's life — any other conversation they could have later.

But Alex wasn't keen on conversations either about his interview or about anything else. Charlie knew him enough by now to recognize his tells when he was having an anxiety peak, and they were all there, written plainly on his face and in his demeanor for anyone who could read them. Charlie took pride in saying he had grown to know how to read the older boy pretty well.

All he wanted to do was to take Alex's hand and talk him down of it like they had done a couple of times before. But Alex was having none of it. He pushed Charlie away, both physically and emotionally, and despite knowing his words came from a place of doubt and anger, Charlie couldn't say they hurt any less. He felt gutted as he watched Alex walk away, and it was all he could do not to follow him, but he recognized they weren't sharing the same footing they were before. So as reluctant as he was, Charlie let Alex walk his anger away. But he was damned if this was the last try he was going to give on this boy.

Because so far, whether on outbursts of rage or heavy silences, whether actively pushing Charlie away or ignoring him for a whole weekend — so far, Alex hadn't said a word to indicate he wanted Charlie gone because he didn't like him. And that gave Charlie hope. It made him believe things could work out if Alex had just a little bit of faith and allowed himself to have this. And the jock would not give up while he still saw a chance.

He stopped by Alex's house and found out through his mom that he was probably hanging by the pier. Charlie didn't think much before he headed there to meet him. He needed to talk to Alex. Face to face, heart to heart. He had given the older boy space, had played along with all his excuses not to see him so Alex could have time to sort out his feelings. But after this morning, after hearing him talking so poorly about himself, Charlie couldn't stand by and let it play out anymore. If this was what was stopping Alex from giving them a chance, then he would do anything to show him how he wasn't seeing himself clearly.

And Charlie thought he could. Well, he sure as hell would try, at least. If Alex could see things just one bit from his point of view, then Charlie would make it a point to try.

But the Alex Charlie met by the pier was a completely different one from the last two times he had seen him. All the fight and the anger were gone from him, leaving behind a sad, morose shell, one that didn't hide him entirely and allowed Charlie to see through the cracks.

It made the quarterback sadder than anything else to hear the self-hatred, the deprecation, the disdain with what Alex talked about himself. It hurt almost as much as Alex asking him to stay away. Charlie could do with keeping his distance if he knew Alex was doing fine — he would ache like hell and lick his wounds long enough to put himself back together, but he could do it if it was what Alex wanted. But it didn't sound like that. Yet again, in no moment at all Alex had said he didn't want to be with Charlie, or that did he didn't have feelings, or that they should be just friends. No, all he did was offer a series of reasons that only made sense in his head, and ask Charlie not to follow him.

Charlie didn't follow. He respected his space more than anything — and he also knew when Alex was willing to listen, and now was not such an occasion. Charlie let him go, so he could have the time and the space he needed. He would let Alex decide when he wanted to talk to him again. Not because he was giving up or anything — but his approach just clearly wasn't working and it was only serving to push Alex further away.

Also, Charlie wasn't blind. He might maybe be a little too hopeful for his own good but he was sure of his feelings for Alex. So realizing that Alex never dropped a line about not corresponding said feelings, neither in his pointed anger nor in his calm detachment, was enough to let Charlie in on something. Alex's worries were about himself, of how worthy he was of having good things like them being together. It wasn't about Charlie, and it wasn't about them. Well, Charlie could go on for hours on all the reasons Alex was, indeed, deserving of good things. And he would, as soon as the older boy opened up a bit more to the thought. In his current state, Charlie knew it was pointless to try and shove anything through that thick, beautiful head of his.

The following days passed in this odd sort of rushed/sluggish way Charlie couldn't wrap his head around. His routine followed the same rhythm as always but he felt like he was suspended in time, on hold as he waited for Alex to confront his feelings and reach out. He checked his phone more than he cared to count. He minded how he navigated the hallways not to seem like he was into Alex's space all the time. He looked at the older boy from afar during breaks and classes, gauging his every expression, trying to guess what the hell was going on through his mind. But Charlie was having no luck so far. It was as if all the signs he before could read so easily on Alex's face were gone the moment the boy decided to cut him off. Charlie didn't know what to make of it.

“Dude, you know you could just talk to him, right? All this aggressive staring is getting on my nerves,” said Justin, voice popping Charlie out of his musings.

“I'm not staring,” said Charlie defensively. “At least not aggressively, I'm not.”

Justin snorted a humorless laugh through his nose and dug into his pizza slice. Charlie turned his attention to him, eyes leaving the table Alex shared with Tyler for the first time since he and Justin entered the cafeteria.

For the untrained eye, Justin looked just fine. And admittedly, Charlie didn't know him as much as his other friends did, but he knew what was going on, so he knew which signs to look for.

His eyes were slightly puffy on the corners, which was probably due to his crying at night before he slept. There were faint dark circles under his eyes as well, which indicated that whatever sleep Justin might be getting was probably not being very restful. He zoned out of conversations when he wasn't the focus of anyone's attention, and his performance during practice had dropped significantly, even if Charlie could tell he was still trying to do his best.

Charlie could see all these signs because he knew them firsthand. He had not been very different when he lost his mom as well.

He didn't think Justin intended to tell him. As far as he knew, he had only told the Jensens and Jessica. But when Charlie inadvertently caught him crying in the locker rooms a couple of days ago, the truth had slipped through his lips without too much prompting. Charlie didn't say anything as he gave him a ride home but as soon as they parked outside of the Jensen's, he mentioned in general lines about his mom having passed as well. He didn't go into detail, both because it still pained him to talk about it, and because this was about Justin and reassuring him he understood his pain.

Justin said nothing that day but after that, he started to sit with Charlie at lunch. They were hanging out outside of school as well, mostly holding some companionable silence over iced teas at the docks — but just yesterday, Justin was restless and agitated, and had demanded Charlie to chat about something to distract him. Charlie had started talking about the upcoming season, he swears he did, and yet somehow when he caught up to himself, he was going on about Alex and his doubts for what he assumed were some solid minutes. He apologized as soon as he realized, and was racking his brain for a new subject when Justin shushed him, urging Charlie to finish his story. According to him, it was good to hear some piece of normal, high school life for a change, even if it was a not-so-happy one.

And now he sat beside Charlie, going for his third slice of leftover pizza in an impressively short time. He could make his voice sound judgmental even as he had tomato sauce on his cheek.

“If looks were laser shots, Alex would have a hole in his back by now,” Justin observed.

“I think you're reading too much of those Clay's robot things,” frowned Charlie.

“Charlie, c'mon”, reasoned Justin, swallowing his last bite and fixing him with an intent stare. “You told me all about this yesterday, and I still don't know why you're not trying to talk to him again.”

“I told you, I don't wanna be all over him when he needs time,” explained Charlie. “I'll let him... I don't know, figure things on his own.”

“Ok,” said Justin doubtfully. “So you're basically saying it's his turn to come after you.”

“I'm very much not saying that,” Charlie arched his eyebrows.

“You are, just not with words,” shrugged Justin, “and honestly, knowing Alex, I'm not sure if this will work. It takes a person in their right mind to see things the way you're expecting him to.”

“Justin,” scolded Charlie.

“I didn't mean-- look, it's not a jab towards Alex, okay? I know it may sound like that coming from me, but it's not,” he shook his head, taking a few seconds to organize his thoughts before he started again. “We're all a bit screwed up. Some a little more than others, but no one escaped it entirely. We all have shit we have done that makes us question ourselves every time. Alex will not suddenly fall into his senses and run back into your arms.”

“That's not what I expect,” Charlie pursed his lips, hassled.

Justin threw his hands in the air, exasperated. “Then what the fuck do you expect?”

 _“I don't know,_ alright?” Blurted out Charlie, cheeks flushing in annoyance at recognizing it out loud for the first time. “Honestly, I don't know anymore. I was maybe hoping he would cool off enough so we could talk, or even that he would pretend like nothing happened and we could at least still be friends. But at this point, I don't know what to do. I can wait for him to set his mind straight for as long as it takes but not knowing how he is, what's going on in his head...” Charlie let out a heavy sigh, tired of going over so many assumptions in his head. “It's driving me nuts. I'm one impulsive moment away from going after him or calling or who knows what, and I really didn't want to. Cause then I would be into his space, and I'm not sure if he wants me there.”

“I'm sure he does,” stated Justin without blinking an eye.

“You sound way too confident about this,” Charlie arched his eyebrows in disbelief.

“Well, I know Alex's stubborn ass, and he is not one to measure his words,” said Justin, smiling wrily. “If he hated you, you would know it by now. He doesn't leave much to interpretation.”

“He seems to have let one hell of a lot for me,” pointed out Charlie.

“And that's just one more reason why I don't buy that he's not into you. Trust me, you would know. I think he's just confused,” Justin's eyes steered toward the table Charlie was eyeing earlier and he nodded his head begrudgingly. “And okay, maybe he needs some time to sort through all of this in his mind, I'll give you that one. So sure, give him time-- but not too much time. Not enough to let him think you don't care. Alex isn't used to having people coming after him. He's usually the one doing the chasing, so you taking this from him may leave him at a loss about what to do next.”

“You get him a lot for someone you don't like,” observed Charlie, smiling.

“We got some shit in common. I can relate to a few things you said about him,” admitted Justin. “Don't ever tell him I said that.”

“I'm not really telling him much of anything lately,” Charlie shrugged.

“That'll change. It has to,” said Justin finally. “C'mon, man. At least one of us gotta get some luck in this department.”

Charlie didn't need to follow Justin's eyes to know he was now gazing at Jessica and Diego at the far wall of the cafeteria. The sour expression on his face said it all.

He turned his own stare back at Alex's and Tyler's table. Maybe — just maybe — Justin was right. Maybe he needed to show Alex he had not given up.

How could he do this in a subtle way that sent the message at the same time that it respected Alex's boundaries was a whole other story he still had to figure out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to say this: I usually avoid to write Justin in my stories. Not just because I'm still pissed at the way things ended for him, but also because as he has a not-so-happy history with Alex (and my stories usually revolve around Alex) it is hard to have him making cameos that make sense. But as I rewatched ep07 to write this fic, Justin's plotline with his mother's passing struck me all over again, and I felt so sorry for him trusting so few people enough to share his pain with. I like to think he and Charlie became closer over this, what with Charlie being the only person who could really understand what he's going through. It's a headcanon but it left me wishing we could have seen something like this on the show. I really like Justin and Charlie's friendship, and it was so sadly underdeveloped imo. Charlie speaks at his funeral ffs, and we don't have that many indications their friendship was that strong to have him doing so. Anyway. I really wish we could have seen more of them together, and this is a moment in Justin's life I like to think Charlie would be around to support him.
> 
> As always, thanks for reading and let me know your thoughts about this chapter<3


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to thank you all for your amazing feedback in this story, while also apologize in advance for this chapter. I'm so not meant to be an angst writer, lol. I read your comments and appreciate each and every one of them, but I'm also so sad to hear you guys are sad while reading, and I just wanna fix it all and have you smiling again, ughh. I'm sorry to say this won't be happening during this story. We're angsting til the last chapter in this one, my dudes.

###  **Saturday, April 13th — Sunday, April 14th.**

Of one thing, Charlie was sure — he had never spent so much time considering possibilities and scenarios to best approach a person he was interested in before. And he wasn't one to brag about past conquests but he had some experience so far he could rely on. Except it didn't seem to count for anything here. Never before had any of his affairs been so adamantly on pushing him away out of twisted visions of themselves — and also, never before he'd had feelings so deep that he was rooted to the ground in fear of misstepping yet again, and this time putting all his chances to waste for good.

The entire situation felt awkward, and off, and awful, and Charlie was a newcomer in such territories. He felt very ill-prepared to handle it all, and the overall feeling was similar to failing a test he knew he hadn't studied hard enough for. Only much, much worse. He didn't think he could ever have practiced responding well to the doubts he currently had rolling around in his head. What should he do? What would be considering overstepping? How much was too much? Talking to Justin had shed some light on a few aspects but others remained stubbornly lurking in the darkness. He spent his whole Saturday mulling over what was the best way to go about Alex and still came up short. He wished there was a magical way for him to know how the older boy would take to Charlie trying to talk to him again, so he could use this as a thermometer as to how should he proceed in his attempt.

To Charlie's surprise, he didn't have to wait much longer to have a feel on Alex's mindset. The very next day, they happened to chance meet quite unexpectedly — well, at least Charlie for sure wasn't expecting, no matter how much Alex scowled and squinted at him suspiciously, disbelieving his lack of participation in the matter.

Tyler had invited him to hit The Crestmont earlier that Sunday, and it hadn't taken too much prodding for Charlie to say yes. The last days had been heavy on him, what with being there for Justin taking an additional emotional toll on him. He had invited the older jock to come with them as well, but Justin had declined. Lately, he had been claiming to need some moments on his own, and Charlie could respect that. He only hoped that this was all that it was. Charlie was no expert on drug-using but he had noticed some changes in Justin's demeanor over the last days — physical changes — and his hackles were all raised. Justin had been doing a stellar job on holding on to his sobriety but losing one's mom can impact even the most put-together person in the world.

As he made his way to the movie theater, his mind was focused on this. He hoped Justin was with Jessica, though he had his doubts as to how much Jessica was being of any actual help at the moment, but he would never be the one to bring it up. Charlie didn't want to downplay her support or her place in Justin's life but her constant 'handling Diego' right in front of him was anything but helpful. He could see Jessica was trying to come up with ways to blow Diego off, but well. She had set herself up for this one, and now, when Justin needed her the most, it was a constant battle for her attention between the two football players — which Charlie found it was a less-than-ideal situation for Justin to be going through now.

All things considered, he was distracted enough to only see Alex when he literally almost bumped into him in front of The Crestmont.

“Oh, God,” Charlie heard his so familiar voice and lifted his eyes to focus on Alex's frowning expression. “Tell me you didn't set Tyler up for this.”

Charlie was too taken aback by his statement to come up with an immediate answer. It's been days since he last saw Alex up this close — namely six days, not that Charlie was counting — and the sudden novelty of having him just at his reach again was messing with his concentration more than he anticipated.

But also. _No._ He had not set Tyler up for this, what the hell.

“I wish I could own up to evil-scheming like that but honestly, you're giving me too much credit here,” replied Charlie wrily, slipping his phone back into his pocket. “I didn't know you were coming.”

“Yeah, well, that makes two of us,” muttered Alex, visibly uncomfortable. “Where is Tyler anyway? He's not one to be late, and I do want some explanations here. I thought it would be just the two of us.”

“He just texted me, saying he'll be a little late,” offered Charlie. “He's still wrapping up some loose ends at the police station.”

“Brilliant,” Alex rolled his eyes. He stuffed his hands inside his pockets and turned away from Charlie, undisguisedly trying to put as much distance between them as he could.

The real question going through Charlie's mind was _“Jesus, are things between us so bad you can't even stand to be in the same place as me?”_ but he had promised he would not be confrontational whenever the chance to talk to Alex appeared. Well, the chance had popped up earlier than he anticipated but he would stick to his first intentions.

So instead, what he forced out of his mouth was, “How have you been doing?”

“Seriously, Charlie, we don't have to do this,” said Alex tiredly, shaking his head.

Charlie nearly laughed in disbelief, exasperation stealing his mood faster than he thought possible. “Do what? Small talk? I'm just asking you how your week went, not for you to pour your heart out for me.”

Alex raised his eyebrows, unimpressed. “Okay, I'm out of here.” He threw Charlie a small salute before turning on his heel to leave.

Charlie was going to let him go, he really was. Faced with this Alex, it was hard to hold on to any hope he still had been cultivating. This Alex seemed intent on shutting him off at all costs, and Charlie was finding it hard to remember why he should keep trying. Maybe he read this wrong all this time, and Alex didn't hold any romantic feelings towards him whatsoever.

But he knew for a fact he had not imagined their friendship. And this one was a bit harder to let go of, which was why as much as he was convinced to let Alex walk away, the words escaped his lips without him meaning to all the same.

“I thought we were friends,” and he hated with a passion the way his voice broke towards the end, but you know what — _good_. Alex should know. He should know how much Charlie was hurting, he should know it was breaking him on the inside that sudden distance the older boy was inflicting upon them.

And that did make Alex pause, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides in a clear sign of distress. He turned around, expression wary, eyes traveling over Charlie's features before he decided on an answer. “We were friends. Maybe we should have stuck to only that.”

“We can be just friends again,” said Charlie earnestly, fighting wave after wave of emotion from bubbling out of him. He could be rational about this. “I just-- honestly, you're not giving me much to work with here. I don't know what you want. But if it's going back to where we were before, it's fine. We don't have to be anything you don't want us to be, Alex.”

“We can't go back to where we were, Charlie,” said Alex, and while there was a heavy amount of condescendence in his tone, there was also a lot less harshness and hostility. He sounded almost soft, almost as if he was trying to explain something very simple to a very spoiled child.

Except there was nothing simple about it from where Charlie stood, and he had to greet his teeth not to lose his cool. “Why not? You think I can't do it? You think I can't be just your friend again?”

“I know for a fact that I can't,” confessed Alex tiredly, and by saying the words out loud, it seemed like a veil had been lifted off him. Charlie could see it all again, all the details and small tells and microexpressions that composed the boy he liked and knew so much. He felt his annoyance draining away from his body when faced with the reality that Alex was hurting too.

He took one small step towards him, as a knee-jerk reaction — he couldn't see Alex distressed this much without having the urge to comfort him — but stopped himself short as soon as he realized what he was doing. “What are you saying?”

Alex shook his head, lips pursed into a thin line, stubbornly holding his words in. Charlie was past such restraint. He felt like he had held on enough for a lifetime already, and any more minute seemed impossible at this moment.

“Look, I know it won't be easy,” he started, “I can't even say I would get it right from the beginning but honestly, I just miss you so much. And I don't even mean as anything but a friend cause we didn't even go there that much so I could miss it in another way--”

“Charlie,” Alex tried to stop him but Charlie was undeterred. He had to lay it all out right here, right now because he was starting to feel he wouldn't have another shot to do so.

“I really wish we could be more, I do. I like you so damn much, Alex, and it's been going on for a while now, so when you tell me I have no reasons to like you, believe me, I've gone through all of them in my head a lot already. And I could still come up with more if you gave me the chance,” Charlie stated, trying his best to keep his voice steady. He had never felt this nervous in his life, but also never before had it been so important to make himself clear.

Alex was staring at him, swallowing thickly around what Charlie could only assume were more internal bouts of self-deprecation — and Jesus, how badly did Charlie want to reassure him of each and every one of his doubts, kiss all his worries away, show Alex he liked him with all of his insecurities, and not despite them.

“But we don't have to be that,” Charlie added, softer now that the had already driven home the most important part of his message — or so he hoped. “I know I rushed a lot with just assuming we would be a thing, and I'm sorry. I wish I could take the words back, but my intentions remain true. I really want us to be together. But it's okay if you don't. We can find a way around this-- I just don't want to lose you entirely. There has to be a way for it not to happen.”

Alex looked conflicted. He seemed like he wanted to say a lot of things while nothing at all came out of his mouth, and Charlie could relate to that. He had spent the entire week feeling like that.

“You don't get it,” Alex settled for, in the end. “You're not _listening._ If you feel like you can just go back to friends-only, fine, that's all on you. But I can't do that. I can't just erase everything that happened and pretend it never did.”

“I can't see why not. It doesn't seem like it affected you that much,” pointed out Charlie, annoyed.

“It didn't affect me?” The flash of hurt and anger on Alex's face would have spoken for itself even if his words didn't — but this time he seemed intent on giving Charlie a piece of his mind. “Fuck you! It affected everything,” Alex huffed out a breath, aggravated. He shook his head, and the words didn't stop coming, as if Charlie had unknowingly poked a hornet's nest, and now all the stingy little bastards were angrily flying out in his direction. “I can't get that stupid kiss out of my head, it keeps haunting me everywhere I go. It seems like the more I put distance between us, the more my mind is settled on playing that moment again and again.”

Charlie was stunned into silence. He hadn't been fishing for a reaction — he honestly believed the kiss hadn't meant that much to Alex, judging by the way he had steered away after it happened, and refrained from talking about it anytime Charlie tried to bring it up.

And maybe those were the damn signs after all, and Charlie had missed them. He realized he knew Alex a lot as a friend, and not so much as a romantic interest. The thought he may not get around to know him as the latter dropped a suffocating weight over his heart.

Alex soldiered on, taking advantage of Charlie's sudden quietness. “Which is why I'm telling you, I can't go back at all. I don't have it in me to be just your friend, not after you pulled me out of my happily ignoring the feelings I was growing for you.”

“If you expect me to say I'm sorry, I'm not,” blurted out Charlie, prompted out of his torpor.

Alex just shook his head, and he seemed exhausted as he did so. “I don't expect you to anything. I don't even expect you to understand. And I know I can't avoid you entirely because this fucking town is a joke it's so small, and we still go to the same school and share the same friends, and fuck-- it's just all so fucking much at once,” his voice cracked and he averted his eyes from Charlie's, self-conscious. “I feel like I'm suffocating most of the time, and when I'm trying to catch my breath there comes another punch to my gut, and then it's happening all over again.”

“Hey,” Charlie frowned, this time throwing caution to the air and stepping closer to Alex. When the older boy didn't pull away, relief flooded him to the point of making him dizzy. “What's going on? Talk to me. I hate that you felt you couldn't reach out to me, we are still friends, for Christ's sake. I want to be there for you.”

That seemed to be the wrong thing to say, though. Alex lifted his gaze to his, eyes glassy and wide, and there was so much written in his expression Charlie could have a field day reading between the lines.

But he didn't have a chance. About two seconds after, Alex schooled his features into that blank, distant expression he had been wearing over the past week, the one that Charlie despised so much. It amazed the quarterback that Alex could clam up that easily. It also amazed him that if he was able to read Alex under normal circumstances, it was because the older boy had allowed him to. He had consciously allowed himself to be comfortable enough around Charlie that he didn't feel the need for any masks.

It terrified Charlie he was probably on the verge of never being able to read Alex that easily again.

“I can't let you,” said Alex coolly. “You can do so much better than me, Charlie, what the fuck. I will just mess you up, and drag you down with me. I'm not going to be responsible for ruining you.”

Charlie shook his head, stubbornly refusing to let any of Alex's words sink in. “You have no idea how much I wanted you to see yourself the way I see you.”

“My take from that is that you're delusional,” scowled Alex. “You're not seeing me for what I am. You made up this good version of me in your head, and I hate to disappoint, but that's not how it is.”

“I could tell you exactly the same,” countered Charlie. “The way you talk about me, what the hell-- you hold me to such high standards I don't even think I could live up to them. I'm not perfect, Alex.”

“You sure as hell ain't half as messed up as me,” pointed out Alex, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“It is not a competition! Just--” Charlie sighed. He was losing his faith this conversation would lead anywhere, and at the same time he desperately held on to whatever flimsy chance he had to make Alex understand. “There is so much _good_ in you, Alex. Shit, I saw it from the start. I could make a full, long list of the things I like and admire about you, but would you allow yourself to hear it?”

Alex fixed him with those blank eyes, and despite his impressive effort to fight off the emotions on his face, Charlie could see there was a shadow of hope there. He could see that Alex wanted to believe. And for a single, flashing moment, Charlie dared to believe as well.

But he was yet to know someone that held so fiercely to their fears and insecurities as the boy standing right in front of him, so despite it breaking his heart all over again, Charlie wasn't entirely surprised when Alex took a step back, shaking his head dejectedly.

“I'm sorry, Charlie,” he whispered, and the worst part — the worst part was that Charlie could tell that he meant it.

He watched as Alex walked away from him for the third time in barely a week, and as much as it pained him to even think so, he promised to himself that this would be the last time he would see it happening. It wasn't fair to neither of them to keep on going through these moments, these comings and goings that didn't lead anywhere different and just served to carve the holes deeper into their chests. Charlie wasn't one to let go, but he could recognize when his efforts weren't making a difference. And they clearly, sadly weren't with Alex.

For the first time, though, Charlie hated that he was such a hopeful person. Because at the same time he struggled to accept in his mind that he and Alex would go their separate ways, that they had been so damn unlucky to have crossed each others path's at the wrong timing, there was this tiny bit of fleeting thought that wanted to tell him _maybe one day_. It wanted to tell him _in the future, who knows._ And this was all Charlie didn't need right now, to wallow in the land of farfetched possibilities and wishful desires, allowing his heart to be filled with a hope he knew was not smart to let grow.

He'd had his shot with Alex — more than once, actually, and in no occasion had he been convincing enough to have the older boy change his mind. That was it. No matter how positive he was naturally inclined to be, there were only so many times he could allow himself to keep trying only to come back to the same hurtful, frustrating results before accepting his defeat.

“Sorry it took me so long,” Tyler's voice broke through his musings, and Charlie looked up at him startled. “Where's Alex?”

“Tell me you didn't do it on purpose,” demanded Charlie. “Having me and Alex meet here, tell me you didn't plan this.”

“Uh-- Not really but also not entirely no?” Offered Tyler, which honestly served to explain nothing at all. Charlie just stared back at him, unimpressed, and Tyler rushed to add. “Look, I don't know exactly what went wrong between you two but I thought maybe having us three hanging out like we used to could help? I didn't mean to be so late though, I promise. It was not to have you two alone, Sheriff Diaz just wouldn't stop asking for details and having me sign things.”

Charlie let out a sigh, tired. He didn't have it in him to be mad at Tyler. He knew his friend, and however flawed his logic might be, Charlie knew he had done it with his best intentions.

“Well, Alex is not coming back, that's for sure.” His heart clenched as he said the words out loud, as if by doing so he was making it more real than it was before, when the knowledge belonged only in his head. Tyler looked at him at a loss, and Charlie honestly had no idea how to give him a quick sum-up of the latest events. “What has he told you?”

“Not much,” answered Tyler loyally. “Why don't you tell me your side of things instead? I'm sure there's more than one way to see this story.”

Charlie sighed again, nodding. “Tell you what, why don't we go to Monet's for some chocolates? I could really use some sugar now, and we already lost the movie session anyway.”

Tyler nodded back, a small, comprehensive smile placed on his lips. “Of course. Sounds like a great idea.”  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again: I'M SORRY. This one was only on Charlie, so next and last chapter we'll have it only from Alex's POV. Please be kind to tell me your thoughts! Thank you so much for reading <3


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter, here we are! It's in the tags, but I'd like to stress the tw for suicidal thoughts in this chapter. There's also some irresponsible underage drinking going around here, so if these are hard topics for you, please consider skipping this one.

###  **Sunday, April 14th — Friday, April 19th.**

Alex had his phone in hand even before his mind was consciously aware of what he was doing. This time, he didn't hold to whatever flimsy hopes that Charlie would follow him. It was a testament to how much the younger boy respected him that he begrudgingly complied whenever Alex told him to stay away. But even Charlie had to have a limit. Even optimistic, lighthearted, cheerful Charlie St. George had to have a breaking point, one where he would come to admit it was pointless insisting further. Alex thought he had just pushed Charlie the remaining distance to said breaking point.

Alex could see it in his face, plain and clear in that earnest fashion that was so characteristic of him. He could tell, every time, that if Charlie had his way, he would have chased him, and tried to talk to him and have him change his mind. But he never did. When Alex told him to go, he did; whenever Alex had told him not to follow him, he hadn't. And Alex supposed he should feel glad or relieved or at the very least satisfied — it was what he wanted, wasn't it? It was his decision to keep Charlie away. It was his call not to have him in his life anymore.

Then why the fuck did he feel so miserable — why the fuck did he feel like any semblance of happiness he had grown to know lately had been snatched from him forever, never to come back?

“Where are you?” Asked Alex, holding off the tremor in his voice at the best of his capacities.

“That depends on what you need me for,” came Zach's carefree voice from the other side of the line, and from the slight slur of his words, Alex could tell he had been drinking. He sighed heavily, going through the pros and cons of just hanging up, but it might have taken him longer than he noticed to make up his mind because when Zach's voice returned, there was a note of concern tinging it. “Alex? What's up, man, what's going on?”

“Zach, I--” Alex cut himself short. He didn't even know where to begin, he didn't even know how to answer what was going on. He slowed his pace, leaning against the front of a small grocery store, one hand splayed against the pale green brick wall as he tried to stop his heart from racing out of his chest. “Can you come pick me up? I don't think I'm doing so well.”

“Jesus, Alex,” Zach huffed out, the urgency in his voice making him sound almost sober. “Tell me where you are, I'll be there in a sec.”

Alex informed Zach of his whereabouts and hung up, trembling hands almost failing to slip his phone into his back pocket. He hated his anxiety on a daily basis but what irked him the most was when it manifested physically like that. As fucked up as it was, he'd take any day of getting stuck inside his head, spiraling deeper and deeper into bad thoughts, over having it translated into his body. He had zero control over how he reacted to it. Lately, he was growing used to having Charlie around to help him through it on the bad days. Now that was a door he had closed for good.

He kept going through their recent conversation in his head while he waited for Zach. No matter from what angle he analyzed it, Alex didn't see a way around the fact that it felt very final. He had done it, at last — he had managed to wear obstinate, driven Charlie St. George down. About damn time, he supposed. Were the places switched, Alex believed he would have given up a long time ago. But he supposed that this was what set them apart. Charlie would have pursued a chance for them to be together as long as he saw a shot, while Alex had given up on them before they could even start. And not because he didn't like Charlie, not in the slightest; not because he didn't want to give them both a shot either, for deep down, past his insecurities and his disdain for all things romantic — deep down, in his heart, Alex could admit that he wanted to have this. If there was anyone who could maybe make him believe in love again, this person had to be Charlie.

And just thinking about it hurt, it hurt so fucking much, because even if he pushed through his doubts and started to believe himself deserving of Charlie, it didn't really matter. As long as he had the threat of Bryce's case looming above his head, he could never dare to entertain the idea of dating him. The younger boy was too close to all of this, and if it were for Alex to take the fall, he didn't want Charlie anywhere around him, anywhere they could link him to what had happened. For all Charlie liked to see the good in people, he lacked a lot of practicality. He had a whole life ahead of him, his grades were good, and he was the football team's star quarterback. He would have colleges lining up to pick him when his time to apply arrived. And Charlie had aspirations and dreams, places he wanted to go, and goals he aimed to fulfill...

What did Alex have? A brain injury, half a functioning body, and a lot of blood in his hands. He had no dreams or aspirations for the future because the way he saw it, just staying out of jail sometimes was more than he deserved. He should be in jail. He had fucking killed another kid. He didn't deserve a second chance, or at least shouldn't have deserved, and yet here he was — guilt-ridden and broken-spirited, going through the motions without really having anything to hold on to, anything to tether him to life. He was doing what he could to deserve this second chance but on most days, it all just felt so fake.

He hadn't had a choice into earning a blank slate — honestly, Alex didn't even know if he wanted one. His mind on and off returned to last November, where if Tyler still had any of his guns, the aftermath of everything would have been so different. Alex wouldn't be here anymore and the truth would be out, and none of his friends would be implicated in lies that could turn them into convicted criminals in case the police found out. None of them would have to lie for him. His father's job would never be at risk, and he would not have to lie to his wife to cover up for Alex. Bryce's mom would have true closure, not a lie fed to her featuring her son's closest friend as his killer. Maybe even fucking Monty wouldn't have died, who knows. Everyone would be better off, had things gone accordingly to Alex's original plan.

A honk dragged him out of his dark thoughts, and he lifted his eyes to see Zach's worried face watching him from inside a gray sedan. Alex briefly marveled at how easy it was for rich people to switch cars like they did clothes, but on top of everything he was relieved he wasn't alone anymore. He hated to be on his own when his thoughts started down that nasty road.

“Hey, man,” said Zach as soon as Alex entered the car. His eyes assessed Alex's overall appearance carefully.

“Hey-- What car is this?” Asked Alex, dodging the questions he knew were about to come.

“It's my mom's,” explained Zach neutrally.

“How the fuck did you trick your mom into giving you her car?” Countered Alex, skeptical.

Zach laughed at that. “She has a spare one. Also, it seems like her son not having a car is somehow more of an embarrassment than having everyone thinking he crashed his Audi,” he shrugged. “What the fuck do I know. I'm sure as hell not complaining, though.”

“Yeah, me neither,” muttered Alex. At Zach's questioning look, he waved a hand around absently. “Just-- I don't know, just drive. Somewhere quiet. I need a break from all of this.”

“Yes, sir,” agreed Zach, and a testament of how much he knew Alex was that he didn't even blink or questioned what _all of this_ was. He knew it already — it could be nothing, it could also be everything. He was no stranger to Alex's anxiety crises.

Zach drove them to the so well-known cliff that gave them a nice, panoramic view of the town. They didn't talk much on the way. Alex was content with having a company — consciously he knew he wasn't at immediate risk of harming himself but what most people don't know about suicidal thoughts is that they don't go away for good. You don't just wake up on a beautiful day never to have them again. They linger. They make comebacks when you least expect it, when you think you're doing fine and going through a steady moment. Alex didn't feel the urge of going through with these thoughts just right now — but knowing he had once gone all the way, and then on a second occasion had started making arrangements for it, he would rather surround himself with people when he was visited by the slightest sliver of doubt.

He wanted to stick around. Sometimes he didn't know exactly what for, sometimes he couldn't point out with clarity why was it worth it to do so but the bottom line remained Alex didn't want to have to consider that option again. Not again.

“So,” said Zach a few minutes after they had parked by the cliff's edge, the sun lowering in the horizon with every passing minute, “I take it you didn't seek my rescue just to ask me about my mom's car.”

“I think _rescue_ is a very strong word,” pondered Alex, stalling having to answer any serious question. He still felt his hands cold and clammy in his lap, and he was in no rush to start revisiting his last encounter with Charlie that soon.

“Call it whatever you want, buddy, as long as you start spilling whatever's going on in this thick head of yours,” said Zach easily, reaching over to the glove compartment. He opened it with clumsy fingers to retrieve a medium-sized bottle of vodka from its insides. “You know it's no good to keep things to yourself.”

“Yeah? Ever tried to follow your own advice?” Frowned Alex, watching as Zach brought the bottle to his lips and chugged one mighty sip.

“Couple times. Nothing good ever came of it. Figured I may be better at listening than talking,” Zach shrugged, offering the bottle to Alex.

His first thought was _fuck no_. The second was _what the hell_. Things could hardly get any worse than they already were. So Alex accepted the bottle and took in a big gulp himself, Zach's 'attaboy' barely registering in his ears.

About half an hour later, he was, indeed, spilling his guts. His alcohol tolerance had dropped significantly after his TBI, and having it added to an empty stomach and the prescription meds he had not skipped on today, it all served to make him more of a lightweight than ever. Alex assumed he should be hating it but honestly, it all felt so fuzzy and floaty that it was hard to give a shit. He felt weightless, suspended in the air, the load of his problems forgotten for a while as long as he kept sipping down that clear, sharp liquid. He maybe understood a bit more now why Zach was choosing to spend so much time out of it lately.

“-- and then he, like,” Alex hiccuped, one hand flying to his mouth to stop himself from coughing right on cue. The alcohol left a burning taste at the back of his throat. “He just stood there as I left. Can you believe it? He just-- he let me walk away.”

“Correct me if I'm wrong, but you had literally just told him to fuck off,” said Zach, who for his part seemed way too put-together for someone who had been drinking for longer than Alex had. He assumed Zach was growing a higher tolerance, and the thought worried Alex a bit, but not as much as it would if he was in his normal, sober state. “For, what, the third time this week?”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Alex scowled, shaking his head. “Whose side are you on, you traitor.”

“I'm trying to be on yours, man, but you're making it hard with every new update you give me,” laughed Zach incredulously. He swirled the contents of his bottle thoughtfully. “I honestly don't understand what you're trying to do here.”

Alex sighed tiredly, closing his eyes and letting his head thump against the headrest. To be honest, right about now he wasn't understanding anything that much either. He was sure there was a very convincing, very reasonable line of thought behind what he was doing but it was difficult to remember, let alone explain it with his alcohol-laden mind.

This was not Zach's first-round this week listening to Alex's ramblings about Charlie. No, Alex was pretty sure they had a similar conversation at least other two times. Maybe three. And every time Zach would try to make Alex see reason, and Alex would cut off the conversation and change topics. Only this time it was harder to refrain himself from keeping on talking, and talking, and talking. And while Zach was a good friend, and was listening, listening, listening, he was also not shy about giving Alex a piece of his mind.

“Do you have any idea how lucky you are, having someone you like that not only likes you back just as much but is also willing to put up with all of your shit and just embrace you for who you are--” Zach cut himself off, shaking his head in disbelief. “Why are you throwing it all away?”

“We covered that one already,” answered Alex without opening his eyes.

“Yeah, whatever, you say it's because you don't want to drag him down with you but you can't make that call for him, Alex,” chided Zach, as conciliatory as he could be. “Charlie is not a kid. He can understand what he's going into, and decide for himself whether he wants to jump in or not.”

“Now that's funny,” Alex drawled, head lolling around to look at Zach skeptically. “Did you extend the same courtesy to Chloe when you took the choice away from her?”

Zach blinked, thrown off by the sudden jab. “We're not talking about me here,” he dodged.

“Well, maybe we should,” stated Alex with a shrug.

“Don't be a smartass. You're not turning this away from you,” Zach warned, taking a long swig from his vodka. He watched the liquid sloshing inside the bottle, lost in thoughts for a moment, before adding, “If anything you should take that as an example of what you shouldn't do. Look at how things turned out for me."

Alex's eyes stayed put on Zach. He didn't know for sure how much of his friend's words he was in fact processing but the underlying meaning was there, clear and unmistakable.

“Even if I were to let him make his choice, he would make the wrong one,” mumbled Alex, more to himself than to his friend. “What the fuck do I have to offer him? I've barely got much of me left to myself.”

“These are questions you should be asking Charlie, not me,” said Zach, not unkindly. “I could come up with some answers of what you could bring of good to a relationship but I'm sure that coming from Charlie's lovesick lips, it would sound worlds better.”

“Fuck you,” Alex rolled his eyes, suppressing a grin.

Zach laughed, shaking his head. “No, man, seriously. I know you might be finding it hard to believe you deserve any love right now but that's not true, trust me. We didn't get our second chance to waste it away.”

“What exactly are you doing with yours?” Asked Alex cheekily, reaching for the vodka bottle.

“Apparently trying my hand at matchmaking but they stranded me with the worst stubborn ass in the whole country,” Zach moved away, pushing the bottle out of Alex's reach. “That's enough for you today. I happen to know you can't have that much to drink.”

“What the--” Alex looked at him half suspicious, half amused. “Did you just booze me on purpose so I would tell you all my dark secrets?”

“There was no planning involved but the opportunity was too good to miss,” Zach smiled beatifically. Alex shoved his arm half-heartedly and went back to resting his head against the headrest. Zach chuckled, shaking his head at Alex's behavior before belatedly adding, “I'm not saying your fears aren't valid. I just don't think it's your place to choose for someone else.”

Alex didn't answer and they fell into a companionable silence, the last swigs from Zach's bottle the only sound to occasionally break the quietness inside of the car.

“I really, really like him, you know,” muttered Alex after what felt a long while.

“I know,” nodded Zach. “You wouldn't give a shit if you didn't. You'd be with him already, cause these worries about what's the best for him wouldn't even cross your mind. It would be like Winston all over again.”

“I did like Winston, too,” frowned Alex, tilting his head to look at his friend.

“Yeah, only after you were already with him,” pointed Zach in an obvious tone. “This is different.”

“Are you trying to explain my feelings for me?” Asked Alex, eyebrows raising in amusement.

“I literally am, based on hot intel I got exclusively from yours truly on both cases,” Zach shook his head, amused himself. “How is it that I went from being the first guy you kissed to the one who's got to listen to your boy problems?”

“What can I say,” Alex grinned, “you're that fucking special.”

Zach snorted, rolling his eyes. “Shut up, Standall.”

Alex chuckled, eyes closing again, thoughts hazy and floating lazily around his head. He hoped he could remember this conversation the next day. He also hoped he didn't.

“I don't think he knows I like him,” he blurted out. This thought had been lurking in the back of his mind for the whole week but it seemed to have rooted deeper after their conversation this evening. Alex couldn't tell this one wasn't entirely on him. He had made everything in his power to guarantee that Charlie would stay away — he couldn't blame it on the younger boy if he didn't believe Alex's feelings.

“Then maybe you should tell him,” offered Zach gently.

“Yeah,” Alex said with a tired sigh. All the wonderings and worries and fears of the last week had left him emotionally drained. “Yeah, maybe I will.”

The next morning came and went, and Alex found out that despite the alcohol going to his head desperately fast, his memories were mostly unaffected. Hazy, bright and sometimes embarrassing (he was still not over telling Zach he wanted Charlie to have insisted on him, what the fuck even was that) but they were all there. He couldn't ignore the conversation that had taken place, which also meant he couldn't ignore Zach's advice on it.

And while okay, Alex would agree that it had been good advice, it was one thing to admit it and another to act on it. He didn't even know where to begin to fix his situation with Charlie.

Even if he was convinced that he should allow the younger boy to have a say on everything — which he wasn't; he had said Zach's advice was _good_ , not that he would follow it — even so, how could he possibly approach Charlie now and just... what? Throw in a cliche _can we talk?_ Charlie would probably say yes because he was just too fucking nice like that — but did Alex even deserve such sympathy? Such understanding?

And just like that he was back all over again to his main dilemma, namely being he didn't deserve anything from Charlie. Not his love, not his friendship, and surely not his comprehension now, especially after pushing him away so many times.

Alex had made that call. More than one time. It was all he could do to hold on to it, on his behalf and on Charlie's. It wasn't fair of him to demand anything from the quarterback, not when it had taken him so fucking long to make up his mind. Had he been a little braver just a bit earlier, maybe they could have it all different now. But he had felt it in his bones these last two days, as he watched Charlie avert his eyes from him during classes or whenever they passed each other by in the hallways — Alex could feel he had thrown his chance away.

Wednesday came with his surprising acceptance letter from Berkeley waiting for him at breakfast. His folks were all over the moon but Alex didn't allow himself to get too excited. He tried to catch his father's gaze, the tension heavy in his bones, but his dad gave nothing away.

But there was a softness, a reassurance is in his voice as he urged Alex to trust him about the future that had the boy really wishing he could believe him. He wanted to believe him, he wanted to hope. Bryce's case still remained closed a week after Sheriff Diaz's visit to his kitchen, and that was enough good news on itself. Maybe it would all go away. Maybe Alex would come unscathed out of this yet again, after all. 

Up to that point, he hadn't dared to alarm any of his friends about the case, but both nerves and a hopeful inkling that the danger was not that close anymore made him tell Jessica about it. She had just shared Clay's findings of their parents monitoring them, and this addition made even less sense to Alex (granted, this was a detail he didn't particularly have to worry about, for a change). It was true that they were careful not to leave incriminating conversations behind — getting involved in a murder investigation had taught all of them a few things — but parents weren't stupid. They could sense something was off even if they didn't have all the pieces to see the whole picture. 

If the parents knew so much, then how come they were all still freely roaming the school hallways? How come the investigation wasn't on again? Alex couldn't wrap his head around it. It made him want to scream in frustration about all the things he only half knew and couldn't make sense of. 

But he was far from being the only one frustrated at Liberty High. This proved to be true on that Friday morning, when an SRO being a prejudiced son of a bitch against a student made the rage that had been bubbling under the surface ever since the drill blow up fully unchecked. Alex watched with wide eyes as Jessica and Clay — _Jessica and Clay_ , of all fucking people — led the student body in a walkout. 

He only realized he had backed away in the very opposite direction when he found himself all alone in a hallway, thoughts a mile a minute. As much as Alex sympathized with Diego, and also with the students' claims to remove the officers from campus, he couldn't get involved in this. He couldn't stand out in the crowd, for fuck's sake. He had just started to grow more comfortable with the idea that maybe the cops wouldn't do anything about the case — which made now so not the time to draw attention to himself. 

Alex felt awful for letting Jessica down, though. He was still pacing down the hallway, debating the pros and cons of joining his friends outside, when Zach caught up to him. And once again, it left Alex floundering how Zach could be so thoughtful towards him and an asshole to everyone else. These words escaped him before he had the time to think them through, and they seemed to strike Zach deeper than any lashing out could do.

Next thing Alex knew, he was smashing the windows at the back entrance with a baseball bat that Zach had produced from one of the many sports panels spread through the walls of Liberty. And it felt _good_. It felt freeing, and exhilarating, and it was such an adrenaline discharge that Alex found himself smiling for the first time in days, cheeks hurting as if unused to stretch that way, and he wouldn't be surprised if that was the case. He had turned into a perpetual frowner even since the drill and the thing with Tyler's guns, ever since Sheriff Diaz in his house, ever since his fucking stupid interview that had somehow still granted him a place at college — ever since he pulled away from Charlie when Tony interrupted them. Ever since he went through his options and sourly came to terms with the fact that a couple of rushed, sweet kisses were all he would ever have from Charlie. All he could allow himself to have. Ever since then, Alex, that wasn't already much of a smiler under normal situations, hadn't found it in himself much reason to do so. 

But now, as smashed glass rained down around him, as police sirens approached and forced him and Zach to run for cover inside the school, as they barricaded themselves into Principal Bolan's office — now Alex had a smile gracing his lips again. As he wheeled around in a rolling chair, dropping books and throwing staplers and wrecking pen holders, he felt some of his frustration leaving his body. There was very little he could do to fix how messed up his life had become. But trashing the place left it looking a little how he felt on the inside, and as far as it was from healing, it definitely felt like a fucking relief. 

He was just about to tumble one more bookshelf when he heard the trashing on Zach's side coming to a stop. Then it was all downhill from there.

Cops were banging at their door and all of a sudden Alex was reminded that property damage was way more endangering than a walkout if he wanted to keep his head down. He looked at Zach, panicking, only to have his friend telling him to go. Alex couldn't put up much of a fight even if he wanted to — for when the words _why are you with me and not with Charlie?_ left Zach's lips, all the messy pieces fell into place with such force that Alex was left breathless in the wake of his epiphany.

Why indeed? Why was he here, and not with the boy that hadn't left his mind for the entire last week — for even longer than that, if Alex was completely honest? 

He stumbled his way out of the school as fast as his legs allowed him to, looking wildly around in search of a well-known gelled-up head, or whatever stupid, endearing knitted sweater Charlie would have chosen to wear today — and when his eyes fell on the motionless, unconscious figure lying lonely on the hard asphalt, Alex felt his heart missing a beat, only to come back speeding like crazy inside of his chest, his blood rushing on his ears as he ran towards Charlie, trying uselessly to lift his heavy weight from the ground. 

Alex saw nothing but the boy in front of him, cheeks pale, lips white, eyes stubbornly closed, and he felt like he could cry. Only he couldn't, because there was no fucking time for that when he had to move Charlie away from all this ruckus — it was all he could think of, all he could care about, and later, as he recalled those frightening minutes from a more cool-headed perspective, Alex would marvel at how focused, how sharp his thoughts were in that moment. He had to take care of Charlie. That was all that moved him, all that gave him the strength to excruciatingly drag the younger boy away from Principal Bolan's burning car. 

He would be glad later for the few meters he managed to cover pulling Charlie along with him. When the car did blow up and the impact of the explosion threw Alex to the ground, his fingers found Charlie's and squeezed on them tightly, tears at the corners of his eyes as he realized the further damage that had just been avoided. 

But the relief flooding Alex's body was replaced by the bitter taste of dread in his mouth when Charlie's fingers insisted on not grasping his back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I appreciate each and every single one of you who took the time to read this story. I hadn't written angst in a long, long time - and I tried to evade writing this one too but I didn't see a way around it if I wanted to stick to this series' premise, which is to fill in the blanks left by the canon. I didn't feel comfortable at all sharing the first chapter but your kudos and comments gave me a reason to carry this one to the end. So thank you very much for all of your support, and special thanks to those who took the extra time to give me their thoughts about it. I'm not kidding in the slightest when I say you are the ones who make it worth it <3


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